


What If- Popilikia (Ep 3.04)

by dawnchsr



Series: What If Series [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnchsr/pseuds/dawnchsr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if... it was Danny who came down the stairs with Steve to discover Doris in the kitchen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What If- Popilikia (Ep 3.04)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story that started it all. I wrote this first and decided this wasn't going to be a "one off" and that it could be more fun to rewrite a certain scene as a "What if this happened instead." The game plan is to do one for each episode. Sometimes it will be a missing scene but often it will be rewriting an actual scene. These are all stand alones but all of these will follow a common thread of following the ups and downs of trying to have a relationship with the complications of everything happening this season.

Steve woke first, the sunlight spilling through the windows warm on his skin. Memories of the night before were even warmer. Drowsy and comfortable, he rolled onto his back, already drifting off. 

That’s when he heard something downstairs. He froze, instantly alert and awake, when there was another one. Sitting up, he glanced behind him to see Danny asleep so it wasn’t his partner rummaging for a snack downstairs. Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. 

“For the love of god, Steven,” Danny muttered with ill grace, still sprawled face down on the bed. “Just once, could you skip the swim and sleep in?”

Steve grabbed his boxers and pulled them on. “I’m not going swimming.” He opened the bedside drawer and pulled out his gun, taking off the safety. 

“Steven, what the hell?” Danny pushed up on one elbow. 

“There’s someone downstairs.” 

“You’re imagining things—” The distinct sound of something being dropped echoed up into the room. Danny was off the other side of the bed, grabbing for his boxers with one hand and his weapon with the other. “That’s not Grace!”

“I know.” 

“I thought you set the alarm!” Danny hissed, yanking on his shorts. He palmed a clip and slid it home. 

“I did!” Steve gave Danny a furious look. “Could we please argue about this later?” 

Danny was already edging out the bedroom door. He disappeared in the direction of the guest bedroom where Grace should be sleeping. It never ceased to amaze Steve how quietly Danny could move when he needed to. He watched as Danny softly pulled the door closed before coming back to join him. 

They both slipped carefully down the stairs of the old house, Danny following Steve’s steps without being warned to. A clatter from the kitchen made both men pause at the bottom of the steps, Steve glancing at Danny over his shoulder. Danny, gun in both hands, gave Steve a sharp nod and the two padded across the living room to the door leading into the kitchen. 

Flanking either side, backs to the wall and guns up, Steve met Danny’s eyes; they’d been breaking down doors for two years now and each knew how the other operated. They didn’t need a conversation about how this would go down. 

Still holding Danny’s gaze, Steve silently counted down before they both charged into the kitchen, Steve ahead of Danny. “Don’t move!”

Doris turned around, frying pan full of scrambled eggs in one hand, spatula in the other, a startled look on her face that turned to stunned. 

“Mom?” 

“OH, OH, OH!” Danny flushed scarlet as he threw his hand up with his gun and spun away. “That’s your mom! In your kitchen!” 

It was a toss up there for a long moment on who was the more surprised— Danny or Doris. 

Doris recovered first, as she shot an assessing look past Steve to Danny who still had his back turned on both of them. 

“And that’s Detective Williams, in his underwear, in my son’s kitchen.” 

“What are you doing here?” Steve found his voice. 

“Making eggs.” She gave Steve a quick smile. 

“No, _here_ , Mom, what are you doing here?” 

“Stop playing with your gun and come have breakfast.” She scraped the eggs into a dish she had set out. “Danno? You’re not the first guy I’ve seen in boxers. How do you like your eggs?”

Steve slipped the safety on his gun and set it on top of the fridge. 

“It’s Danny,” his partner snapped, still holding his weapon. He ran a hand through that incredible mop of hair, giving Steve a pained look. “It’s Danny, just Danny, can we please stick with that?”

“So what are you doing _here_ , Danny?” She poured orange juice into a pair of glasses. 

Steve didn't miss the edge in Doris' voice or the sharp look in her eyes despite the indulgent smile plastered on her face. He doubted Danny did either. 

Danny hesitated, looked from Steve to Doris and back at Steve before raising his hand in a warding gesture. “I’m getting Grace. I’m sure the power is back on at my place now.” He turned and left. 

“Nice seeing you again, Danny,” Doris called after him. Danny didn’t reply, only waved a hand behind him as he retreated. 

“Danny— ” Steve started to follow him. 

“His daughter’s here too, Steven?”

There was no mistaking that tone of disapproval. Steve turned back to his mother, torn between going after Danny to smooth things out and telling his mother that none of this was her damned business. 

“No— yes, Mom! Enough! What the hell is going on here?” 

“I told you, Steven, breakfast.” She picked up the tray and left the kitchen, heading for the table in the den. “And really, is it such a good idea for you two to be doing this with his daughter in the house?”

“And what exactly did you think we were doing?” 

She paused, a piece of toast in her hand as she looked at Steve. “Really, Steven— ” 

“No, we are not discussing what Danny is doing here and you can knock it off with the subject changing.” Steve didn’t try to hide his annoyance. Or the disappointment— he finally gets Danny to trust him enough to sleep with him. He actually gets Danny in his bed only to have Doris with her impeccable timing show up. 

Of all the times. 

He heard footsteps on the stairs behind him and murmur of soft voices. He turned away from Doris and went out into the living room in time to see Danny come down the stairs with a still very sleepy Grace over his shoulder. She had her arms around her father's neck, still in her pajamas. 

Danny had pulled on a pair of jeans and a faded blue t-shirt that read “Property of Newark PD,” his hair hastily slicked back. 

It occurred to Steve that Grace wasn't such a little girl anymore and moments like these, where Danny still easily could carry her, were slipping away. He had every right to fight for her and Steve promised himself he'd do whatever he could to make sure Danny kept her on this island and in his life. 

“Danny—“

“We’ll talk later, Steven.” Danny snagged his keys off the sideboard by the door, shifting to balance his daughter with one arm so he could open the door. 

“Just let me say goodbye to Gracie.” Steve was across the living room, brushing her long hair off her pretty face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Uncle Steve…” She blinked and yawned at him. 

“I’ll see you later, kiddo, okay?”

“Sure…” She closed her eyes and Steve pressed a kiss to her temple. He met Danny’s gaze but his partner recently turned lover glanced away, looking past him to Doris who casually leaned against the door jamb, arms folded over her chest. 

Danny nodded then and pushed out the front door, heading for his car.

Steve watched them go before turning around as he closed the door. Doris watched him with a sly smile, her eyes narrowed. 

“Anything you want to tell me about here, Steven?” 

“No, Mom, there isn’t. None of this is your business.”

“Don’t you think I should know that you’re sleeping with a man? And by the way, nothing against Danny, but aren’t you his boss?” Doris tsked with a scolding tone like he was ten again. 

Steve pointed a finger at her. “You do not get to pass judgment here on either of us. You lost all your rights twenty years ago when you faked your death.” He headed for the stairs, swallowing his frustration. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To put some clothes on, Mom! I’m not having this or any other conversation with you in my underwear.”


End file.
